


Wolf Girl: Something Wild

by lighthouseglow



Series: The Tales That Really Matter [8]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Abusive Parents, Aggression, Coming of Age, Diary/Journal, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Epic, Female Protagonist, Geeks, Gen, Guilt, Hawke Sided with Mages, Inquisitor Sided with Mages, Insecurity, Inspired by Real Events, Isolation, Jaws of Hakkon DLC, King Alistair, Loneliness, Mage Rights, Past Child Abuse, Personal Canon, Phobias, Queen Cousland, Self Confidence Issues, Shame, Stealth Crossover, The Descent DLC, Trespasser DLC, Verbal Humiliation, Warden Queen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-11 08:40:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7041157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lighthouseglow/pseuds/lighthouseglow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By all rights I should be dead, but people have been saying that about me since I was a sickly infant with a name I didn’t want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Take Your Breath

**Author's Note:**

> Each time I play a Dragon Age installment, I learn something new about myself. Some of the stuff that I'll touch on in later chapters actually happened to me and I figured dealing with it in a different world would help. I'm playing the game in real time and every choice I make is my own.

My name is Lily Marie Trevelyan and I have no idea how I got here. By all rights I should be dead, but people have been saying that about me since I was a sickly infant with a name I didn’t want. My parents were counting on a boy when Mum was pregnant with me and they chose something Orlesian: Aubrey, a clunky, ugly thing in my opinion. It never did lend itself well to nicknames; in spite of my gender, the name stuck…

…Until I was fourteen years old and a row changed everything. It was around that time that I began to lose my innocence, my genuine belief in the inherent goodness of people. As the eldest daughter and heir to Falcon’s Keep, Daddy’s modest home (for a bann in debt, anyhow) in Ostwick it would be my job to take charge of the estate while my younger siblings, Joseph, Bryony and Phillip, served the Chantry in some capacity. They dutifully prepared themselves; I was anything but what our mother expected us to be. “Maker’s breath, Aubrey! Is this what you’ve been doing all morning, sewing a jacket for your _plush dragon_?!”

“It was only one jacket…” I began timidly. “I swear I’m not a child!”

“Well, you don’t act like it! How d’you expect to survive on the marriage market with hobbies like this?! How old are you?”

“Fourteen, ma’am.”

“Louder, Aubrey.”

“Fourteen.”

“And what will people say if they see a fourteen-year-old with a plush dragon? What will the new governess think?”

“She’ll think I’m stupid.”

“And you don’t want her to think you’re stupid, do you?” I didn’t speak. “Do you? Yes, no, maybe so?”

“No.”

“It embarrasses all of us when you do things like that, you know. Now get downstairs, she’ll be here any minute…” The governess, it turned out, was named Madame Ruffolo, the most zealously Andrastian woman I’d ever encountered in my life. I was nothing if not dutiful and respectful to my elders but this woman would change everything…for the worse. She never smiled; I scarce can remember ever hearing her laugh.

One day in the winter all four of us were in the parlor having our history lesson and Madame was being particularly disparaging of mages. “They can’t help it!” I blurted out.

“Lady Aubrey, you’re interrupting.”

“They can’t help being magical, I mean! It’s a disability that no one asks for!”

“Lady Aubrey, do you consider yourself a good Andrastian girl?” She was peering shrewdly at me over the top of the history book.

“Yes…”

“And who was it that brought doom upon our blighted world?”

Phillip’s hand automatically shot up. “I know—”

“Lord Phillip, I want your sister to answer this question. Well, Aubrey?”

“The mages, Madame.”

“Yes, if it wasn’t for their pride and ignorance, the Maker wouldn’t have abandoned us.”

“But the Maker made us all! He gave them their magic and if He really punishes people for it, then we should question His will!”

“What did you--?”

“I said that the Maker’s an arsehole!”

“You’re lucky I’m not reporting this to Her Ladyship. You know, Aubrey, you need the Maker in your life because you are an angry, frustrated and _bitter_ young lady!”

“And _you_ ,” I snapped, getting to my feet, “can shut the fuck up!”

“Aubrey!” Bryony gasped, but I didn’t care; the ice emanating from my fingers hit Madame naturally. A weight had been lifted off my shoulders…until her fingers froze and she started shrieking. It was then Mum burst into the room, took one look at me and ordered me upstairs.

“I will not have you use such language in my house!” she snapped after hitting me in the face; the slap had caused me to go mute from shock. “You’re to inherit, Aubrey Marie! Have you no sense?! What happened in there?!”

“I froze the governess’s hands!” I yelled.

Mother visibly paled “…What? How?!”

“I don’t know, I—”

“What will they think of us now?! Our eldest, our heir… A mage! In this--” She pushed open the door to my room and flung me inside. “Don’t even think of leaving this room—if you do, I’ll know about it. Oh, and I’ll be taking your journal as well.” She locked me in and her footsteps receded down the corridor. “Your father will be told, I hope you’re aware of that…”

“Not my journal, please! You can take anything, Mum, just not my journal!! I HATE YOU!!”

“What’s wrong with Aubrey, Mum?” I heard Phillip ask.

“She’s upset that things aren’t going her way. Ignore her and get back to your studies, dear.”

I spent most of my confinement over the next few days sleeping, only being woken when one of the stewards brought me a meal. Escaping just never crossed my mind; they only opened the door wide enough to slip me a plate and retrieve it when I was done. Other than that, the door was always locked until the day the templars came for me at the end of the week.

I’ve been Lily Trevelyan ever since.


	2. The Company of Wolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “They have decided your guilt. They need it. The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy—”
> 
> “Well, that’s just _brilliant_ , everyone hates me as usual,” I muttered, not hearing the rest of what she said, and Cassandra shoved me hard in the back.

1 Drakonis, 9:41 Dragon

…It’s been a rough few days, to say the least. Well, I know what day it is; that’s something. The plush dragon Princess Shireen gave me before the conclave wasn’t confiscated, thank the Maker—Rey, her name is. I’m just grateful Shireen went home before any of this could affect her, even though I’ve probably been parted from her for good. Toothless—that’s my plush dragon I’ve had since I left Falcon’s Keep—was untouched as well.

My memory before I woke up imprisoned in Haven is a blank, unfortunately. One minute I was at the conclave, trying to not voice my support for Anders and Lily Hawke when I really wanted to, and then…and then…spiders were chasing me and a woman was there and…I woke up in chains with this burning mark on my left hand. Then a woman in armor—I later learned her name was Cassandra—came in and started flinging questions at me…like Mum used to do, so the situation was eerily familiar. “The conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead…except for you.”

I stayed silent; Mum could emotionally manipulate me, but this woman couldn’t. _Aubrey did it, Aubrey did it, Aubrey did it…_ It was an implied theme in my life before I was taken to the Ostwick Circle and changed my name to Lily. I was the eldest, the heiress who wasn’t very good at it and the scapegoat for…everything.

“Father needs you.”

“What did I do this time?”

But Cassandra was roughly grabbing my left hand and not giving me time to remember the past. “Explain _this_.” Grandmother firmly believed left-handed children like me were cursed and, considering where I’d ended up, she wasn’t wrong.

“I…can’t.”

“What do you mean you _can’t_?!”

“I don’t know what that is, or how it got there!” I protested anxiously.

“You’re _lying_!!” I’m quite sure she would’ve killed me right then if her redheaded companion hadn’t stopped her.

“We _need_ her, Cassandra!” 

“I don’t understand!” My voice was weak. I told the Orlesian woman as much as I knew and then Cassandra said she would take me to the rift, whatever that was. Yet again I was alone with someone who hated me. “What _did_ happen?” I asked meekly as Cassandra unchained me.

“It…will be easier to show you.”

 _That’s not good_. I dutifully followed her out of my prison and into the snow. The sky was gray and stormy, like when hurricanes battered the shores of Ostwick…and then I saw the green light in the sky. Cassandra explained that it was a rift between our world and the Fade they called the Breach, that it was getting larger…and then my left hand was shooting with pain. It was so bad I hit the ground screaming.

“Each time the Breach grows, your mark spreads…and it is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn’t much time.”

“So I don’t really have a choice about this?” I retorted. Mum would’ve had me punished for being so sharp-tongued.

“None of us has a choice.” I kept my head down as she marched me through a village of hateful, freezing people. There were glares everywhere I dared to look. “They have decided your guilt. They need it. The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy—”

“Well, that’s just _brilliant_ , everyone hates me as usual,” I muttered, not hearing the rest of what she said, and Cassandra shoved me hard in the back.

“No retorts! You’re the only key we have to stopping the Breach.” She pulled me aside before we crossed the bridge outside the valley and sliced my bonds with a dagger. “There will be a trial. I can promise no more. Come.”

I knew about Haven’s importance; Maker knows Princess Shireen and I devoured A Recent History of Ferelden’s Blights multiple times before the rebellion got bad enough that we had to abandon the Circle tower. Ironically, that was the book we took with us on the way to the conclave in Ferelden. Queen Lily and King Alistair—before they were crowned, of course—came through here when I was about sixteen to end the Fifth Blight. I miss Shireen; she was a mage princess in a land far away from Thedas and her father recently requested she go home—I imagine to take the throne, inevitably. She was convinced one of her father’s advisors is a blood mage, but… She gave me the toy dragon before she went home and it’s all I have left of my little sister with the diseased face. I hope she goes far in life, wherever it takes her, and oh, Maker, I’m going on a tangent again.

“Where are you taking me?” I called after Cassandra.

“Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach.”

“So where are we going?”

“Into the valley.”

I suddenly remembered something. “How _did_ I survive?” (I often generally question my survival, anyway.)

“They said you…stepped out of a rift, then fell unconscious. Everything in the valley was laid waste, including the Temple of Sacred Ashes. I suppose you’ll see soon enough.”

Snow covered the landscape as far as I could see and it only got thicker the further we went. My hand still burned with pain so badly that we had to stop several times…and then when a stone bridge collapsed from under us, things went from bad to worse. Demons were falling from the Breach and one had us cornered. “Stay behind me!” was Cassandra’s only order, but I ran for a staff anyway. Ice. Fitting. We fought them off together, but it only made relations between Cassandra and me tenser. “Drop your weapon! Now!”

“Do you really think I need a staff to be dangerous?” _You make the wrong move, Cassandra, and I could burn you alive. It doesn’t help that you remind me of Mum in the worst way possible._

“Is that supposed to reassure me?!” she shot back with a hint of terror.

“I haven’t used my magic on you yet!” I pointed out. She conceded that I was right and we pressed on, though not before she threw a significant glance at me.

“I should remember you did not attempt to run,” she said.

“No,” I muttered in response. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing, Cassandra.” 

A few minutes later, we ran into a rift and a skirmish on the way to the camp and I found myself being pushed around by an elf mage. “Quickly! Before more come through!”

“Hey! That hurts my arm!” I felt a vibration in my left hand as he held it up to the small green rift…and then it was quiet again. “What did you do?” I asked incredulously, yanking my hand away.

“ _I_ did nothing. The credit is yours.” He was bald, didn’t seem to be dressed for the cold and seemed the calmest of all of us. At least he wasn’t yelling at me.

 _Yeah, right, sure._ “You mean this,” I said, looking down at my hand. Everything that happens to me is never due to me being heroic. I’m not heroine material.

…Then how did I wind up here? How? How? He said I held the key to their salvation, ha! _Do you have any idea who you’re talking to, ser? Any at all?_

The dwarf I’d briefly glimpsed when we’d arrived at the skirmish came over before I could answer. He was stocky, tough and the cold clearly didn’t affect him; his weapon of choice was a crossbow. “Varric Tethras, rogue, storyteller and occasionally unwelcome tagalong.”

He extended his hand and I shook it. “Are you with the Chantry, or…?” I asked.

“Was that a serious question?” the elf chuckled; I couldn’t help thinking he was making fun of me and didn’t like it. Varric explained he was also a prisoner like me and I quickly changed the subject.

“That’s…a nice crossbow you have there.”

“Isn’t she?” It’s like Varric’s married to it… “Bianca and I have been through a lot together.”

“You named your crossbow Bianca?” I couldn’t help grinning.

“Of course, and she’ll be great company in the valley.”

The mage introduced himself to me as Solas and Varric explained that he’d saved my life. “I guess I owe you my thanks, then.”

“Thank me if we manage to close the Breach without killing you in the process.”

We managed to get to the forward camp and that’s when the fighting started; Cassandra is one of the most hostile people I’ve ever met. A man named Roderick was there to meet us and like everyone else he was decidedly unhappy to see me. Wanted me tried and executed straight off. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here!” I snapped before I could think about it; Maker knows I put up with Mum and Daddy doing that for at least half my life…

“You shouldn’t even _be_ here!” the chancellor retorted, voicing something I’ve thought multiple times over the years. More arguing, more flinging insults back and forth while I quietly watched…and then they asked me what to do next in battle. _Me_! The most I can manage on a good day—and this was not my day—is fighting one or two templars at a time.

“Now you’re asking me what I think?!” I snapped.

“ _You_ have the mark,” Solas pointed out.

_So? That makes no--_

“And you are the one we must keep alive,” Cassandra put in. “Since we cannot agree on our own…”

“I say we charge!” Taking the mountain path was too dangerous for the soldiers and I wasn’t going to risk losing more people on a wild goose chase. Climbing the mountain was tiring, but we managed it; I saw a man perish not two feet away from me just before I sealed another rift.

“You’re becoming quite proficient at this!” Solas pointed out hopefully as I stopped to catch my breath; Cassandra was in conversation with one of our commanders. The fact that he was a man several years my senior made me bristle with distrust automatically and he wasn’t even speaking to me.

“This is the prisoner’s doing,” Cassandra said and the commander was suddenly looking at me, a small, brunette and scrawny girl of twenty-seven carrying a staff. I knew what he was thinking, what they all think of me: _She’s no leader, a child, she has no right to be--_

“Is it? I hope they’re right about you—we’ve lost a lot of people getting you here.” He was blond and conventionally attractive, but there was no way I was letting my guard down. He clearly hated me the way everyone else had thus far.

 _The attractive ones are always conceited bastards._ “You’re not the only one hoping that,” I answered with dry sarcasm.

“We’ll see soon enough, won’t we?” The only other thing to note is that he gave me a glare before going to help his men—I feel like no matter what I do, no one in Haven trusts me. We fought our way through, in any case, and I was knocked unconscious trying to seal the Breach. I let a Pride demon loose, but I think Solas was expecting that.

I’ll pick this up later; there’s a lot of work to be done in the Hinterlands to the south…


End file.
